


Sick Boy

by brejamison



Series: Dick Grayson Must Die [11]
Category: Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Good friend Hank, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Stomach Ache, Vomiting, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24119182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brejamison/pseuds/brejamison
Summary: In which Dick tries and fails to hide a stomach bug from Hank.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Hank Hall
Series: Dick Grayson Must Die [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670542
Comments: 6
Kudos: 135





	Sick Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous on Tumblr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Anonymous+on+Tumblr).



Dick was in the small bathroom, the heat of outside clinging to his sweaty skin. Shakily, he wiped the sticky stuff from his brow, dark curls sticking to his forehead. God, it was hot. His stomach cramped again, twisting viciously and he bit down on his glove to avoid crying out in pain. It rolled through him in stabby waves of agony, stealing his breath and tensing every muscle. With a grunt, he grabbed the edge of the sink and pulled himself to his feet. He had no idea how much time he had wasted squatting in this dingy bathroom over the toilet, but he estimated Hank would be coming for him soon. He glanced at the leaky faucet in contempt. He wouldn't be drinking anything that didn't burn like booze for a long time. 

Hank pounded on the door, calling for him. "Dick! You can play with yourself later; Stolaph's about to be in position." 

"Coming!" Dick croaked in response. His throat gurgled loudly and he swallowed down bile before pushing out of the small room. 

The heat in the rest of the apartment was both worse and better than the bathroom. Being in the open with a breeze casting in through the open window helped wipe away his sweat, but it wasn't enough to cool his fever. Hank was sweating bullets himself underneath his costume and Dick was grateful for the relentless Gotham summer heat. It made hiding a fever much easier. 

"Where is he?" he asked, stomping to the window. 

Hank cast him a quick glance before peering back through the binoculars. "Hard to tell. But intel said he should be here in a few minutes to meet Keviv." 

Dick huffed sourly. " _Intel_..." he repeated with a bitter snarl. 

Hank gave him an amused look. "You not still pissed she hogtied you and left you in that sewer drain, huh?" 

Another stomach cramp reminded Dick how she didn't just leave him in the water as Hank had assumed. He remembered being held down, the flow of dirty rainwater being forced into his mouth and nose as he tried to explain himself. He remembered how it burned going down his throat, how he felt his stomach swell with the unwanted liquid. How he had promptly thrown up, stumbling weakly to his knees as she got away. 

"It's fine," he finally answered, pushing off the windowsill and stalking to the table of gear, his cape swishing behind him. He and Hank hadn't known each other for very long, but the other man seemed reliable enough. He was also brutal and straight as an arrow, qualities Dick knew would be useful when going after someone like Stolaph. Hank wouldn't be manipulated or scared off by the man's brutality, which was horrible even by Gotham's standards. It was a case Dick had been working on for months and he wasn't above sharing the climax with someone if it meant he could put the horrific images of Stolaph's countless victims behind him. 

And now, thanks to their informant dunking Dick's head down the drain, he had a goddamn stomach bug. And just in time for Stolaph to make himself vulnerable for the first time in months, too. 

How fan-fucking-tastic. 

He felt Hank's eyes on his back and took a second to judge their intent before responding. He and the man had a connection - that much Dick knew for certain from the first time they met - so he had to remember to lower his hackles and let the other man in a little bit. 

"You good?" Hawk wondered, eyebrow quirked at Dick's jerky movements as he inspected their arsenal. 

"Sore, I guess." Okay, so he wouldn't let him in that much. Not yet. 

"And it has nothing to do with getting your ass kicked by a-"

"No, it's not that." And it wasn't. Dick knew plenty of women he didn't stand a chance against and he not only loved them, but respected them. His stomach cramped again and he leaned against the table involuntarily, hand moving to cradle the aching area. 

He heard Hank move behind him and willed his upset gut to settle the fuck down so he could focus. Stolaph was their target, his first priority. Not his minor case of intestinal infection. 

Eyes narrowed suspiciously, Hank looked out the window once more. A frock of blonde hair caught his eye and he cleared his throat, sitting up. Dick didn't move to join him, so he whistled quietly. That got Robin's attention, who looked at him with interest. Hank nudged his head, beckoning him. Snatching his binoculars off the table, the other man rushed to the window, leaning forward to inspect the street below. Hank could feel the heat coming off him and wondered briefly if it really was that hot out. 

"That's him," Dick said, lowering his binoculars. "Can you confirm?" 

Hank squinted in the sunlight. "Yup, looks like him." 

Rolling his eyes, Dick pulled out his League phone. "Can you _actually_ confirm?" 

The larger man huffed, peering through his own binoculars. "White, blonde, male. About 6 foot nothing. 11:30. You know what they say." 

Dick typed on his device, frowning at him. He didn't. 

"If it quacks like a fucking duck." 

"Then it's a fucking duck," Robin smirked back. Despite the aching in his gut, the excitement of finally getting to close a case three months in the making brought a smile to his face. "Wait until he gets in position." 

"Roger that," Hawk replied, turning back to the window. Robin moved back to the table, talking into his League phone. He noted their coordinates, the date and time, and the name of their target. For legal reasons. 

Hank sat up in the window suddenly, making a nervous noise. "Uhhh, Flyboy?" 

"What?" Dick was at his side in an instant, watching as Stolaph climbed into a large black SUV. "Shit!" he hissed, turning to sprint out of the room. Hank clambered from his seat, chasing after him.

They burst onto the roof, peering over the edge as the vehicle turned down another road. "Go that way!" Robin ordered, pointing South. "Go after Keviv!" Hank looked up and he was already half-way gone, boots pounding across the hot surface. 

Damn, that man could move. 

Turning, Hank climbed over the edge, sliding down the fire escape to the street below. He wasn't the moving move. Built more like a tank, he wasn't one to chase after a guy at full speed. Which made sense why Dick told him to take the more direct approach. He landed on the street with a thump, looking up to see Keviv staring at him in shock. 

He loved that look. 

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Keviv was hogtied in the corner. He had given up whimpering for mercy or calling out for help an hour ago when he realized no one would be coming. Hank hadn't stopped pacing since his capture, nervously checking his phone. 

"Damnit, Rob, where are you," Hank hissed angrily, pulling up the GPS again. He was half-tempted to call someone in the Watchtower to put a track on Dick's phone, but considering he hadn't even been up there yet, calling in favors seemed a bit of out of his league. 

Someone stomped down the hallway outside and Hank slipped to the door, hiding behind it. Keviv perked up, struggling and making noise all over again behind his gag.

"Hey! Zip it!" Hank snarled. Thankfully, the man went silent just as the heavy footsteps approached the door. 

"Hawk!" Dick wheezed from outside. Hank didn't respond, waiting for the all-clear code. "Birds of a feather," Dick sighed. 

With a tight grin, Hank swung the door open. "Told you that would be a cool code," he quipped. Robin, Stolaph in tow, stumbled into the room. He shoved the old man to his knees, collapsing heavily as he tied the man's wrists behind his back. Tightly. 

"You take our little friend here for a tour or something?" Hank asked, grin dimming as he took in Dick's pale skin and sweaty curls. 

"Something like that," he replied shortly. Weakly, he pushed Stolaph forward, the man toppling to the floor. Dick panted, coughing hoarsely from where he was collapsed on the floor. 

Hank offered his hand. "He take you on a tour, instead?" 

Dick took it, letting the larger man hoist him to his wobbly legs. "It was a mutual effort, you could say." 

"What do we do with them now?" 

"First we need to..." 

When he didn't continue, Hank turned just in time to see a black and yellow cape disappear into the bathroom because that was totally normal. He moved to the small room, Keviv and Stolaph whining at him from his feet. 

"Shut up!" he demanded loudly. The men fell quiet and he suddenly heard loud retching from the bathroom. "The hell?" he wondered, slamming the door open. 

Sure enough, Dick was soaked in sweat and pale as a sheet as he hunkered over the toilet, dry heaving into the bowl like his life demanded it. 

"The hell's wrong with you?" Hank asked, frowning at the sight. 

"Ugh... rainwater," Dick gurgled back weakly. "Must've swallowed some." 

Scoffing, Hank crossed his arms, wide frame taking up a good portion of the doorway. "You telling me you have a stomach bug?" 

"No," Dick argued. Then promptly went back to forcefully ejecting his stomach through his throat. 

Rolling his eyes, Hank grabbed a small towel, tossing it to him. "Yes," he replied. "I'll get you some water." 

"No!" 

He paused. "...No?" 

Dick shook his head enough to make himself dizzy, waving a hand at the larger man. "No water." 

"Okay... Gatorade?" 

"No." 

"Look, you gotta drink some-"

"Can't keep it down." 

Hank leaned against the doorframe, eyeing the other man seriously. The men in the other room started to make noise again and he yelled at them to shut up. Again. They did, for now, and he turned back to Robin. "How long?" 

Dick tore a glove off, tossing it somewhere, and wiped his mouth on the towel. "H...how long what?" 

"How long have you been a virgin, Jesus. What do you think?" 

Dick didn't answer for a suspiciously long amount of time. 

"Rainwater," Hank repeated. 

Begrudgingly, he nodded. 

"So, last night. You've had the goddamn stomach bug since last fucking night."

At least Dick had the courtesy to look away guiltily. 

"Goddamnit," Hank sighed angrily. He wasn't sure why he was so bothered by this. He'd only known Dick for a couple of months now and they barely knew each other on a personal level other than secret identities. But there was just something about the kid that, well, Hank had a soft spot for adopting little brothers. "And you didn't say anything because..."

"Not the priority." 

A long-suffering sigh, the likes of which Hank hadn't felt for years, escaped him. "Of course it wasn't. Well, guess what, mission fucking accomplished, so you wanna curl up around a cup of Gatorade now or _after_ you pass out from dehydration?" 

Dick scoffed lightly. He scrubbed at his face with the towel, rubbing the taste from his tongue. "Just because we have Stolaph doesn't mean we're done. We still have to figure out where he's keeping the... the..." 

"The women, yeah." 

Dick blinked. He was sure he never shared what precisely Stolaph was smuggling. 

Hank shrugged. "You aren't the only one who can read a case file, you know. Look, I'm all on board with whatever you wanna do to these shitbags. Take a couple of teeth, bust a few fingers, you ain't gonna hear a peep from me. Far as I'm concerned, they deserve every bit of it and more." 

Slowly, Dick dragged his eyes up to Hank's devilish smirk, wincing as another round of cramps clenched his stomach painfully. "So no hurry then." 

"You got anywhere to be?" 

Robin chuckled dryly. He sure as shit didn't. 

"Great. I'll go get you some Gatorade and string up the pigs for roasting, how's that sound." 

He knew it was a good idea to bring Hank along. 

"Hawk!" Dick called, making the man pause to look back at him. "Birds of a feather is a stupid code phrase." 

"Didn't say you didn't like it, though," the larger man smirked. 


End file.
